To Wing
by Diedre D'Nai
Summary: One-Shots focused on the Heron, Hawk and Raven Tribes of FE 9/ FE 10. Rating may go up with later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Harlequin **

**Disclaimer:** Do I look like I own Fire Emblem? No? Good, because I don't.

**Genre:** Romance/ "Angst"

**Characters:** Leanne/Naesala

* * *

Opposites.

Contrasted against each other.

One cynical, hurt, angry. Wings as black as he felt his heart was. Hands and Talons stained with literal and metaphorical blood. A traitor, multiple times over.

The other innocent, beautiful, kind. As pure as the newly fallen snow her wings so resembled. Spared from the horrors visited upon her family and loved ones. An angel, as the beorc have always pictured.

He had found sanctuary, though he doubted his heart and intentions too much to ask for it. _I'd only betray her as I have her brother, Tibarn, the others. _The thought tore at his heart, and threatened to destroy him.

She had discovered love, but she feared the rejection she might face. Her heart was still fragile. _I'll only be pushed aside. _The thought ripped at her soul, and she felt she would wilt without him.

He could keep his calm under almost any circumstance, lie to anything, respond to any threat nonchalantly and without fear. His eyes were fierce as he ripped men apart.

She wept during combat, her young heart still unaccustomed to the idea that her loved ones might not return. Her voice quivered as she sang the galdr.

He was soiled.

She was pure.

_**

* * *

**_

_**"Naesala..." **_The Raven king turned from the clear surface of the lake he sat by when he heard his name whispered in the ancient tongue. His eyes landed on her. Hands clenched together, her white dress sparkling in the moonlight.  
"Yes, Leanne?" the king asked, willing his heart to harden, to hide his feelings, his hurt, his damnable self-pity.  
_**"I can not sleep, but promised everyone I would not wander alone. May I...stay with you for a while?" **_her eyes faltered a little when he didn't respond. She turned to leave.

_I'm interrupting. I should leave..._

He was awestruck. She had been wandered alone, away from camp...looking for him? She would have had to travel at least 20 minutes from the safety of their companions to find this hidden little lake.

_How do I make her stay? _

"Leanne." He said, standing up beside the crystal clear surface of the lake. "Its too dangerous to head back alone. I'll walk you home." She nodded her head in thanks.  
His heart was a flurry of mistrust and pain, but hidden with in was something sweet. It drifted up to her, like gold glittering at the bottom of a dirty pool.

Her hands were shaking as they grabbed his sleeve shyly.  
"What is it Leanne?" the Raven asked, turning around to look at her. She didn't answer, instead, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his back. Naesala paused, eyes wide in surprise. Then slowly, he returned the gesture, sliding his hands under her wings, and pulling her closer, resting her head on his chest.  
_**"Naesala..." **_she whispered, _**"Let me help you. I love you." **_Her words were as gentle as her features. Her intentions as innocent as her eyes, her love as real as the blood that pumped through her.

* * *

She was beautiful, kind, sweet and beloved by everyone who came in contact with her.

He was a traitor multiple times over. Reputation stained as black as his wings.

She loved him.

He needed her.

It was the moon who watched. Looking vainly at her reflection in the surface of the crystal-smooth lake, only to find it marred by a sight more beautiful.


	2. Strong

**Strong**

**Genre: **Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

**Characters: **Tibarn and Reyson

**Summary: **Reyson is sick of being treated like a glass statue. He wants to be strong enough to defend what he loves. I don't know, maybe Tibarn/Reyson if you turn sideways, squint and are into that...

* * *

More than anything else, Reyson wanted to be like Tibarn. He was sick to death of being treated like glass. Tired of being viewed as one who needed to be protected, he wanted to be the one to protect instead.

It tormented him. The knowledge that, if only he had been stronger, he might have been able to fend off the human scum who had burned his forest. He would have been able to protect his mother and Leanne. He would have been able to fight back, not simply scream and curse in terror as the flames engulfed everything he had loved. He would have done more than weep as Tibarn dragged him upwards and away from the inferno that had been his home.

The white prince had always been different. his family had blamed it on Reyson's friendship and admiration of Tibarn and Naesala. It was true, in a sense. Reyson had always gotten along better with the hawk and raven princes more than his own brother. Rafiel seemed so... defenseless. Rafiel couldn't protect anything. Not like Tibarn and Naesala. Not like Reyson wanted to. He admired his brother's finesse and his connection with the forest, but that was it.

* * *

Even now, knowing that his siblings were safe, that his home was restored, Reyson hungered for strength. He knew how the beorc saw him. Their thoughts lay open like books. As simple as picture books. So simple that the heron wanted to vomit in disgust at himself.

_There's Reyson. Man, I'd hate for anything to happen to him, I'll watch his back next time in combat. _

_That arrow almost got him. Stupid bird._

_We can't risk him getting hurt. Why won't Ike take him off the field. _

_What good are herons anyway?_

It was more than Reyson could take. Enraged he stuck out. His clenched fist colliding with the rock he sat beside. He cried out in pain, feeling his knuckles give way. He could feel the blood trickle into his palm, watched with sick fascination as it trailed down the rock. He watched, disgusted that a rock was stronger than he was. He had broken his hand, for the second time, by punching something.  
"What good are herons anyway." he muttered numbly.

"Reyson," Tibarn called out, flying over, "Are you alright? Ulki heard a "thwack" and something breaking followed by you..." the hawk king stopped. He looked at the blood on the boulder and at Reyson's blood-stained sleeve. "What happened?" the laguz king demanded. He took the prince's hand in his, surveying the damage. The white prince could hear and feel the concern in his friend. It was too much for someone who already felt that he was drowning in the sympathy of others.

He pulled his hand away, wincing in pain as he did so.  
"Stop worrying about me!" He demanded, knowing that he sounded like a spoiled child, "I'm fine! I hate it when you all panic over every little bruise and scrape!" Tibarn blinked, even Ulki and Janaff didn't call a broken fist "every little bruise and scrape" and Janaff was about a thick-headed as they got.  
"Reyson...your hand is broke-" he tried to reason.  
"I don't care!" The outraged heron practically screamed. His head felt light and he couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or the anger boiling inside him. "I don't care! I want to fight! I want to be useful! I'm tired of being seen as something to protect! Why can't i look after the ones I-" He stopped mid-sentence as the world went black and he crumpled into Tibarn's arms.

* * *

"Reyson, you idiot." Tibarn's voice laughed as the heron regained consciousness, "I look after you the same way I do Ulki and Janaff. You're not a glass doll, you're a heron. You're the bravest, toughest heron anyone's ever heard of, much less met. So quite worrying." Reyson opened his eyes and looked up his friend. He was lying in his cot, his broken hand bandaged and a damp cloth on his forehead.

"None of that matters." the prince said, still angry, "I want to protect you. You, Leanne, my father, Rafiel, I'm sick of being weak." Tibarn just smiled. He pulled off the necklace he wore and draped it over Reyson's neck.  
"You do protect us, Reyson. You're music revitalizes us." He laughed, "You're like a hawk with a decent voice and no talons."  
"Like a hawk?"  
"Yep." Tibarn smiled, "My favorite hawk."


	3. Loss

**Loss**

**Genre:** Angst/Tragedy

**Characters: **Sephiran

**Summary: **Lehran had lost everything, yet only now did he truly know what that meant.

* * *

Lehran, Sephiran, had lost so much. He had lost everything.

He lost his telepathy. Lying there, naked, sweaty and content beside Altina, he had known what was going to happen, what was already happening. Her voice in his head was becoming faint, less than a whisper and slipping away with every passing second. He had told himself he didn't care. Their child would be half beorc, half laguz, she would be strong, and more importantly, she would be in possession of the Galdr to awaken Ashera and Yune if the need arose. Altina snuggled into him, and he told himself he was happy.

He lost his wings. It was painless, the goddess had at least been kind about it. They kind of...melted away, leaving scars that had been without pain. Later, when recalling the moment, he would have said that it "kind of tickled" as the blood rolled down his back. And then he went to sleep, ecstatic in the news his lover had given him. He, Lehran, was going to be a father. A kind of sorrow fell over him, the kind tinged with joy. He would never fly again, he was an outcast amongst Beorc and Laguz. He was neither, his child would be neither. Yet, even that knowledge was drowned out in mirth as Altina's smiling face took over. She pressed his hand to her belly.  
"Lehran..." the woman said, "She will help build the world Ashera spoke of."  
"I know." he smiled. Altina took a step forward, she gently traced his bloodied shoulder-blades.  
"I'm sorry, my love."  
"I'm not." the once-heron half-lied, kissing his wife's neck and lips and belly.

* * *

He lost her. Age came for Altina, as it does for all mortals. Her wrinkled hands shook as he held them, kneeling by her bedside. She smiled at him, still beautiful in his eyes.  
"Will...will you be alright, love?" she croaked softly. Lehran felt his heart crack.  
"I know not." He whispered, tears forming in his eyes. He bent over her, weeping, tears landing on her withered face. "I don't know." He kissed her hands, her forehead, her lips. He took her last breath in his own. The shock wasn't as bad as he had thought. He was prepared for this moment. His daughter was weeping, and he kissed her forehead, telling her he had to leave. She didn't understand, but...then again, she didn't really need too.

* * *

He lost him. After so many centuries, he had learned to love again. A branded man from Daein had entered his life. Zelgius, everything Lehran loved in Altina, the strength, the loyalty, the warmth, a;; of it was reflected in this man who swore himself to furthering "Duke Sephiran's" goals. Zelgius, who knew the whole story. In whom Lehran had confided. And there he was, bleeding on the stone floor, lying out of reach of Sephiran's arms. Tears flooded the Duke.  
"Are you alright, Master?" The dying man asked the empty air, knowing his lover could hear him.  
"N-no..." came the choked reply, "Not without you here..." Sephiran, Lehran, hugged himself. Clinging to his robes out of sheer misery, weeping like a child. He had to calm himself, they would arrive soon, and he had to appear composed.

* * *

But what hurt most, what hit harder than anything else in his painfully long life, what the loss of her trust. He watched as Sanaki's eyes fell, the tell-tale signs of her pushing back tears._  
Empresses don't cry. _She had muttered when she was younger. A mantra that she would repeat until the tears ceased. And Sephiran would stroke her hair and whisper, _But they do, Empress. They cry when they need to. They do it out of sight, and they seldom speak of it. But the tears still come, because with out them, we are little more than statues. _He watched her now. Her lips moving silently, "Empresses don't cry, Empresses don't cry." over and over again in her head. He stopped himself from walking towards her, kissing her forehead.  
"We are little more than statues." he whispered sadly. Sanaki looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.

He had lost his great-great granddaughter. His sun and moon and heavens. And now, as he lay on the floor, life slipping out of him, he realized what loss truly felt like. She bent over him, weeping.  
"Sephiran..." she wept, clutching the necklace he had draped over her neck, "Don't leave me." He extended his hand shakily and stroked her cheek in a fatherly manner, smiling. _You won't lose me._


	4. Sky Dance

**Sky Dance**

**Characters: **Janaff/Lucia

**Genre/Rating: **Romance, k

**Summary: **Inspired by a bastardized quote I only vaguely remember: "This is our final dance, a final chance, to tell you that I love you"

* * *

Janaff, as a hawk laguz, had been flying his whole life. There was nothing new to it, ride the wind currents with your wings spread out, gliding with minimal effort, tilt slightly to slice through the air and fight the wind. Flying was something he never tired of, even though it was never new, or exciting or difficult, it was his favorite activity. The sky had a sort of calming effect on him, stilling the normal brashness of his character, he thought clearest when he swan dove from the peaks of Phonecias, pulling up at the last moment, soaring above the water, close enough that his bare toes stroked the waves.

Lucia, as a noble woman, had been taught to dance. There was something calming in the pattern, even as she ignored the flirtatious looks from the men she danced with. She had learned to let herself follow the music, letting it keep her on beat even as her mind strayed. It was relaxing in its own right, her feet moved as if she were asleep, so that in her long white skirt she seemed to glide over the tiles. Dancing and fighting were one and the same, if you really looked at it. Her footwork was modified only very slightly on the dance floor.

* * *

The Laguz weren't much for dancing, as many of the Beorc learned. They clung to the wall, watching the beorc float around the room, making eyes at one another, talking about politics. Every now and then someone would drag a laguz to the floor and try to teach them how to dance. Thus far, Ranulf and Lethe were struggling, but Mordecai (under Mist's tutelage) was doing a superb job.  
"Would you join me, Lord Janaff?" A woman asked, curtsying politely and extending a hand towards the hawk laguz. Janaff looked nervously at his King and Ulki.  
"I'm sorry," the hawk said, shuffling his weight ever so slightly, "I don't know how."  
"I'll teach you," she said with flirtatious eyes. Janaff sighed and held back the numerous comments building in his brain.  
"Alright then." he muttered at last, allowing the woman to lead him to the floor. She taught him the basic steps, leading him around the floor, doing her best to ignore the clumsy way he tread on her feet. But his apologies were sweet and he seemed to genuinely try to master the steps that it was all to easy to forgive him, and like many woman, she forgot the pain when he smiled.

Lucia watched with something on the border of amusement and jealousy. She had chosen to dance this particular song with her brother, teasing him ever so lightly about his feelings for the young queen. Yet it was Geoffrey who noticed that Lucia's eyes were elsewhere.  
"You're distracted, sister." He said with a smile. Lucia flushed lightly.  
"Its a little warm tonight, is it not?" she replied.  
"Only on your cheeks." Geoffrey teased, "Who are you watching? Not Bastian, I'm sure."  
"No, no. I'm just...entertained, by a sight a little ways off."  
"You mean Lady Rosaline teach Janaff to dance."  
"Yes, that."  
"You know," Geoffrey said, a slight glint in his eyes, "You're the better dancer, I believe Lord Janaff would learn faster from you."

* * *

Courage, was not a trait Lucia generally lacked. Yet as she stood near the wall, she felt nervousness overcome her at the thought of asking the laguz to dance. It wasn't that she didn't know how to offer dance lessons (she had taught others before), it wasn't that she had never asked another person to dance (she would often ask Elincia or Geoffrey or even Bastian and Renning) it was that around Janaff, her words stuck in her throat. Everything about him struck her as fascinating, from his laid-back demeanor to the fierocity with which he served his King. His wings were never still, even when he stood still, they would twitch slightly, as if itching to be used.

"Hello, wallflower." A voice said from above. Lucia's heart nearly stopped, she turned and found Janaff sitting above her, perched on the wall, "Enjoying your evening?"  
"Yes, My lord." Lucia managed. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, "Did you enjoy your dancing lesson?"  
"Er..." Janaff dropped from his seat, landing with perfect grace beside her, "Not really I must admit. I don't mind the dancing...but..." he looked over towards Rosaline, who was pestering Tibarn and Ulki about their missing friend's whereabouts, "she's a little scary." Lucia giggled lightly to herself.  
"She's also, forgive my rudeness, not the best of dancers."  
"I gathered. Geoffrey said I should ask you for lessons." Lucia flushed and nodded,  
"I...I would be honored...my lord..."

Janaff felt his heart beat faster. His eye sight was slightly worse than a beorc's in the dark, but even he could see the redness of her cheeks. He extended a hand to her, feeling a rush when she set hers in his palm. She wore gloves, but they were fingerless and warmth soaked through them. He put a hand on her waist, as he had seen Bastian do before, and timidly looked into her eyes.  
"Is this right?" He asked, not only confirmation on his stance, but also about the distance (or lack thereof) between them. He was close enough to hear her gentle breathing.  
"Yes." She replied softly, her voice no more than a whisper as the word stuck in her throat. Her right hand rested on his shoulder and they began to move. His wings twitched slightly as ever, stirring the grass around their feet as they danced in a slow, delibrate pattern. He tread on her feet a few times, because he could not keep his eyes off her face, and therefore did not watch his feet.  
"Sorry..." he muttered weakly, Lucia merely smiled.  
"Don't worry about it." She had lost herself in his smile, and was oblivious to her own body, aware only of him and the music.

* * *

"How did I do?" Janaff asked a little while later, walking back towards Lucia with two glasses of wine. She nodded and smiled,  
"My lord, I believe you are the finest student I have ever had the honor of instructing."  
"But I keep walking on your feet." he pointed out, ashamed. He hated that he had caused her even the lightest of pain. Then, like a flash of lightening, an idea struck him. He looked around and smiled to himself.  
"My lord?" she asked, noticing his change in thoughts.  
"Can we try that again?" Janaff asked, setting his glass down and taking her hands. Lucia nodded, thinking (a bit sadly) that he merely wanted another lesson. She took his right hand in her left and set her right on his shoulder, putting the usual distance between them. Janaff's hand closed about her waist, pulling her closer. She blushed, pressed against his chest, so close that she could feel his heart pound in his chest so clearly it may well have been her own. Janaff's wings began to beat, and he held her close, gliding just a few feet above the ground.  
"Now, my lady, I won't step on your feet." He said softly, whispering into her ear. Lucia looked up into his eyes,  
"No...I don't believe you will." she let him lead this time, relaxing slightly into his arms. She was slightly apprehensive, knowing that if he should let go, she would fall, albeit not far. Yet Janaff held fast, guiding her in little circles.

"Lucia..." the laguz said after a while, "I've been wanting to ask you something for a while now."  
"What is it?" she asked, smiling at him.  
"May I...er..." he gave her a goofy looking smile, embarressed to no end. "Would it be okay if I..." he took a deep breath, "Sorry...this is harder than I thought..." she looked at him perplexed.  
"What's wrong, Janaff?" He guided them towards one of the high walls, letting her feet make contact and released her waist, but kept her hand in his. Then, with a deep breath he said softly,  
"You can hit me if you like." before kissing her. The sensation was electric, Lucia felt delicious warmth run through her entire body as he caught her breath for her. Sensing no resistance, and taking it as a sign of permission, Janaff drew closer to her, pulling her to him, deepening the kiss.

* * *

They parted a short while later, as fireworks lit up the sky around them, sparks falling like rain.  
"Lucia..." Janaff whispered, still holding her close, "May I have this dance? And the ones that follow?" The countess smiled at him and nodded. Fearless as usual she stepped off the wall, into his arms. He drew her close supporting her weight, and they moved slowly, dancing beneath the multi-colored stars that dropped like rain from the fireworks.


	5. Into My Arms

**Into My Arms**

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Fire Emblem, I'll let you know if I do.

**Genre: **Romance/Angst

**Characters: **Naesala/Leanne

**Summary: **He accepts that she could, would and should do better, but can't help but pray that the angel will be his.

* * *

_I don't believe in an interventionist God  
But I know, darling, that you do  
_

Naesala sighed to himself, sitting on a branch just outside the Serenes forest. He couldn't believe it, after everything that happened, Leanne prayed. He wasn't sure to whom or what, as she never said, but he was fairly confident that it was no longer to Ashera...after all, the Goddess had tried to kill them all, one didn't generally keep praying to someone after that. But none the less, here they were. Him on his branch, playing escort to the heron princess who was kneeling less than a hundred yards away, praying to some nameless deity, asking for protection and strength.

The raven king smiled softly, catching his name in the song of prayer she gently sang out. He half wondered what he had done to deserve her prayers, even if Reyson and Tibarn had forgiven him, they at least had the common sense to keep him just slightly in arms length, and he knew that was just so Tibarn could snap his neck if the need ever arose. Still, he warranted a place in Leanne's prayer. It was, at the very least a little heartwarming.

_But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him  
Not to intervene when it came to you_

Wrapped up in his own thoughts, the Raven barely noticed Leanne as she stood up and glided over to him.**  
"Naesala, I am finished." **She said, her voice a pleasant lilt on the wind. He smiled at her, a rare gift,  
"We'd best get home then." He said, floating down from his branch. Her eyes lit up at him, and damned near took his breath away. He steeled his heart against her, knowing that the young heron was not above looking into his heart and mind to gleam what tormented him. She was so softhearted, so sweet.**  
"Are you alright, Naesala?" **She asked, putting a hand lightly on his arm. He smirked at her as always.  
"Of course. You worry too much, Princess. Though I find myself wondering how you can, after all that has transpired, feel the need to pray. " He teased, "Its a little bit ridiculous." However, even as he spoke those words, he felt a prayer rising in his heart despite his views on the whole matter. It was a prayer for Leanne, that she would be left untouched by any force.

_Not to touch a hair on your head  
To leave you as you are_

She took to the heavens with him. Smiling and singing as they wove through the clouds, returning to Phonecias._  
She's beautiful, _He thought, giving the woman a roll of his eyes as she twirled around him, _Beautiful, sweet, forgiving, graceful, and everything I don't deserve wrapped up in one delightful package. _He felt himself praying again, despite his views on the matter, that nothing could, would or should change about her. That she would maintain all the innocence and grace she currently possessed, and even that annoying little habit of peering into his soul to see what was the matter.

_And if He felt He had to direct you  
Then direct you into my arms_

Bitterness filled him again, as it always did. She'd probably end up marrying Tibarn or something. It would be a good union, and one that everyone could approve of.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

Everyone, that is, except Naesala.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

Who knew he didn't deserve her.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

Who know he could only hurt her.

_Into my arms_

Who would support her in everything she wanted. Even if it involved a marriage to Tibarn.

_And I don't believe in the existence of angels  
But looking at you I wonder if that's true  
_

**"Naesala..." **Leanne flew close to his side, **"You're being unnaturally quiet." **she put a gentle hand to his arm as they flew, **"Is everything okay?"**  
"You worry too much." The raven king teased. "We're almost back, I'm certain your brother and Tibarn will be glad to see you again."**  
"Reyson didn't want me to take you as my escort." **She said softly. Naesala turned his head and smiled. Leanne, she was the inspiration for the "angels" Beorc spoke of. She had mercy, even for him, and fussed over his emotions even more than she did her brother's. He had never set much score by religion, even knowing that Ashera was there hadn't encouraged him to pray, to ask her for anything. Yet...in a sense, he knew what the priests spoke of when they talked of the everlasting benevolence and love of the Goddess. Only, Naesala's goddess had a different name and was several years his junior.  
"You should have listened. I'm dangerous." He said, picking up his pace ever so slightly.**  
"I don't think so." **Leanne said softly, speeding up to catch him.

_But if I did I would summon them together  
And ask them to watch over you  
To each burn a candle for you  
To make bright and clear your path_

They reached Phonecias a short while later, landing outside the palace walls. Naesala smiled nonchalantly as Reyson walked out. The white prince nodded politely to the Raven and took Leanne's hand.  
"Thank you, Naesala, for watching over my sister." Reyson said stiffly.  
"Anytime, we're friends are we not." Naesala responded in his usual fashion. The heron prince nodded a little, an uncertain 'yes?' before guiding his little sister inside.

The Raven let out a sigh, looking up at the moon. If Leanne's nameless god was real, he prayed that he would look after her. That the god would secure her happiness as he could not. That she would meet someone, fall in love, and that he would make her happy in all the ways Naesala wouldn't. That this currently non-existent lover would be everything that the Heron Princess deserved.

_  
And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love  
And guide you into my arms  
_

Though, secretly, Naesala prayed it would be him.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

It wouldn't be.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

It couldn't be.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

It shouldn't be.

_Into my arms_

He still hoped it was.

_And I believe in Love  
And I know that you do too_

**"Naesala..." **He wasn't surprised to hear Leanne behind him. He turned around, and was a little bit surprised that she wore only her thin white night gown. Her legs were skinny and white, pale enough to glow in the moonlight.  
"Leanne?" He asked, almost unsure of what to do. He took a deep breath, willing his nerves to steady. She took another couple of steps towards him and cupped his face in her soft white hands.**  
"I don't believe you're dangerous..." **she said softly, **"I believe my brother is wrong. You would not harm me."**  
"I hurt him." the raven pulled her hands gently from his face, "I betrayed him. Is it so hard to see why he would not want to put you in harms way?" He willed himself to smirk at her, as he had a million times, treating her like a child.**  
"He wants me to marry a hawk." **Leanne said, changing the subject and walking past Naesala, leaning against the wall, looking out over the sea. **"He says that a hawk would be strong enough to defend me, that they are loyal and noble."**  
"He's largely correct." The raven king said, doing his best to keep his voice calm. "They're a little bit pompous, but yes, chances are a hawk, particularly Tibarn, would take excellent care of you."**  
"I wonder if that's true." **she said softly.

_And I believe in some kind of path  
That we can walk down, me and you  
_

**"Tibarn could take care of me. He does worry about my brother and I." **she looked over at him, giving a soft smile.  
"Indeed." Naesala's feathers ruffled automatically.

_So keep your candles burning  
And make her journey bright and pure_

_"As long as it makes her happy." _He thought glumly, meeting her eyes. She sighed and stood up, taking his hands in hers.**  
"You're silly, Naesala."**  
"How so?"

_That she will keep returning  
Always and evermore_

She took a step closer and his heart began to flutter. She leant into him, giving him a deep hug.**  
"Because, I will never marry a hawk. Not even Tibarn."**  
"Why not..." his voice shook ever so lightly,**  
"You can't guess?" **She reached up pulling his face down to meet her's as she stood on her toes. Their lips met, Naesala's eyes shot open.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

This couldn't be happening.

_Into my arms, O Lord_

This shouldn't be happening

_Into my arms, O Lord_

He smiled into the kiss as acceptance hit him. He pulled her closer, crushing her to him.

_Into my arms _

But it did.


End file.
